The Crystal Clear Connection
by Kofukuna Shi no Kami
Summary: This is a response to Paladeus's challenge, Survivor Harry. The rules of the challenge are available in the first chapter, but the full version can be found on Paladeus's page. This will be a Lunar Harmony. This is not stolen from The Perfesser, that is my second account. There is proof of that on the second account as well.
1. Chapter 1

**Perfesser: Hello people of the FanFiction world, I have come to you with yet another story. This is a response to a challenge issued by Paladeus (awesome author, I highly recommend his work) or more specifically, the Survivor Harry challenge.**

**The rules are as follows:**

**Setting: Harry has learnt about magic during the time he spent locked up in his cupboard while he was a child living with the Dursleys. One night, while being beaten up by Vernon for having used magic, eight year old Harry somehow disappears, reappearing in the bedroom of Hermione Granger. He was a brief meeting with her parents as well, and explains to them some things regarding magic. As he is leaving, Hermione tells him that she is also able to perform magic.**

**In turn, Harry creates two crystal necklaces, one of which he keeps, and the other he gives to Hermione. These allow them to sense each other, communicate, and even feel each other's emotions, although that comes much later. After explaining the crystal's function, Harry leaves.**

**Pairing: Harry/Hermione is necessary, while H/Hr/LL is an option. (I'm going with the latter.) All of the three must be in Ravenclaw. An official relationship should have begun between the summer after second year and before the start of the fourth year.**

**Bashing: There is no bashing per se, but Ron will not be a friend either. The rules of the challenge state that Ron will be replaced by Luna in the Golden Trio. I'm not yet sure where I stand regarding Dumbledore.**

**Antagonist: Voldemort**

**If you need more details regarding the challenge, you can find it from Paladeus's profile. As you might notice, I'm trying to keep it as close to the one issued as possible. Furthermore, I might decide to combine this with another challenge of Paladeus's, the 'Shattered Mirror of Erised' challenge. For more about that one, you'll have to go read up, because I can't fill up two pages merely explaining the challenges in full detail. That's going to get monotonous fast.**

**So, I realise there are quite a few clichés in this chapter, but I'm trying to stick to the guidelines here. Plus, before anyone complains about the Goblins being so darn helpful to Harry, hold your horses until the next chapter. That isn't the case.**

**And also, I cited the date here to give readers a reference point. Should I continue for every chapter, or is it unnecessary. Also, there is an Easter egg here, concerning the names of the Grangers. Double chocolate chip cookies for anyone who can tell me which show I'm referencing there!**

**Well, I hope you guys enjoy this, I'll hopefully post again soon. Read, review, and favourite or follow if you like it.**

June 28, 1989

Vernon Dursley was not the kind of man that you would go out of your way to anger. With an intimidating height of nearly 190 centimetres, and the mass of a small car, he could frighten even the best of men, especially with his infamous temper.

Unfortunately, the young Harry Potter had no escape from his uncle's constant rage. The boy was nothing but a twig compared to his behemoth of a uncle. Weighing barely twenty five kilograms, and not an inch above 85 centimetres, he stood no chance against Vernon.

As it were, he happened to be the man's favourite target. Harry knew not why, but over the years he had grown use to his uncle's hatred for him. Nonetheless, he knew that the man would always allow his frustrations to further fuel his hate, and take it all out on Harry.

It was not very rare to find Vernon beating the boy vehemently while yelling out insults to both his person and his late parents. Just as it was on this night, where Vernon had witnessed the boy using magic to make things float.

"Get up, you freak! Your no-good parents went and got themselves killed, only to unload you onto two fine, upstanding citizens! I will not have it you hear me!" Vernon bellowed, as he raised the boy with one hand, before throwing him against the staircase, allowing a sickeningly sadistic smile to spread across his face.

The eight year old quickly pushed himself up, ignoring the blood that he could feel flowing down his forehead, sticking his hair against his forehead. He knew that not responding would only anger his uncle further. "Yes, sir."

"Don't you dare talk back to me boy!" The alcohol-addled mind of Vernon Dursley made no sense to Harry, who was once again hoisted up by his uncle, this time by the neck. The man slammed the boy against the wall, before he slowly began to squeeze his throat. "Maybe I'll just have to squeeze all the freakiness out of you!"

Harry clawed at his uncle's meaty hand, his feeble attempts to escape completely in vain. He could hear his uncle's mad chuckles, but the blood falling from his forehead prevented him from even opening his eyes, let alone seeing.

At that moment, unable to see, with the only sensations being the aches all across his body, and feeling himself slowly losing consciousness, there was only one thing that the boy could think. 'I need to get away.'

And with those thoughts, Harry disappeared from his uncle's grasp, and from House Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging. Vernon's purple face only seemed to swell further in anger, before he punched the wall in front of him. "Freak!"

Harry felt a sensation of lightness for a moment, almost as if he were nothing but thin air. He briefly contemplated whether this was death, but before he could do anything to confirm this belief, he suddenly found himself being just as heavy as he was a moment ago, and suddenly all the pain he had been experiencing came back. He bit his tongue to avoid screaming, as he fell onto a rather soft surface.

He immediately sat up, using his sleeve to wipe away the blood on his face, to better gauge his surroundings. He was inside a dark room, which had one window, allowing some light to seep into the space. Next to the window was a large wooden desk, covered with thick books, and various writing utensils lay sprawled across the surface.

He turned around, to see a queen size bed, covered with soft covers, and many small stuffed animals. But that wasn't what caught his attention. It was the girl that sat on the bed, looking at him with wide eyes.

Hermione Granger had a bad habit of reading in bed. So suffice it to say she had been taken completely by surprise when she heard a rather loud thud in the middle of the night. Turning off the handheld torch she was using to read, she had first thought her mind was playing tricks on her, and that there was nothing there. But a mere second later, she saw a figure rise from the floor, near the foot of her bed. She remained silent, so as to not alert it of her presence. Though, judging by the fact that the figure was quite a bit smaller than her, she thought she might use the element of surprise and take it down.

But before she could take any course of action, the figure turned around, revealing a boy who looked slightly younger than her. But then her eyes caught his bloodshot eyes, and the fact that blood covered his hair and face. And in that moment, there was only one thing she could do. Scream.

And scream she did. Even the boy winced at her volume, and only a moment later, her father slammed open the door, stepping in. When he caught sign of a dishevelled boy near the bed, he immediately jumped at him, grabbing him by the arm and raising him into the air. "Who the heck are you, and what are you doing here in my daughter's room?"

Harry subconsciously thought that the man could have given Vernon a run for his money. But he couldn't say a thing. Rather, all he could do was scream due to the excruciating pain that shot up his arm, a result of Vernon's last punishment.

Hermione quickly jumped onto her feet, and began tugging at her father's shirt, greatly distressed by seeing the boy in pain. "Daddy stop, he's already really badly hurt."

Robert took a moment to look over the boy, and dropped him down once he saw all the injuries he had sustained, as a sudden sense of dread filled him. He looked over to the doorway, where his wife stood, staring in horror at the state of the boy. "Allison, quick, call for an ambulance. This boy need immediate medical attention."

Just as she was about to head downstairs to telephone the nearest ambulance, the boy once again began to talk. "No! I don't need any help. Don't call an ambulance." Allison watched as the boy pushed himself off the carpeted floor, which was now wet with his blood, before he raised his hand against his chest, where a large bruise surrounded a bloody gash.

A soft glow seemed to emanate from his palm, but in turn, the wound on his chest seemed to grow smaller and smaller, as the bruise also alleviated. The boy bit his tongue in pain as the healing process continued. "This is the worst part."

All three Grangers watched as the boy slowly yet surely healed any major wounds he had. The older two were amazed at the feat, finding it completely incredulous. The boy must have had multiple fractures, and probably a few broken bones, including his ribs. This should have taken months to heal in a hospital. But instead, the boy had taken care of them within a few minutes, and right in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Harry looked up to the girl who had asked the question. For a moment he contemplated lying, but then he saw the worry in their eyes, genuine concern, which was something of a foreign feeling for him. Going by that, he decided it wouldn't be too bad if he told them a bit about the truth. "It's magic. I know it sounds crazy, but I can use magic to do things like healing myself, or cleaning things up."

Once Harry had healed himself to the best of his own abilities, he used another spell to cleanse himself and his clothes of all the blood, to make his point, and followed that by doing the same for the carpet.

"But how can you do these things?" Hermione could feel her heart racing. Over the past few months, she had moments whlere she had done things she couldn't understand, things she couldn't explain. But here, in front of her was a boy her age who seemed to be able to do similar things.

Harry smiled slightly as he looked at the girl, and he saw the passion in her gaze. "You're a smart person, and I see a fierce intelligence burning in your eyes, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Hermione blushed slightly at his kind words. Her father though wasn't nearly as pleased with that sentiment. "Well, how come you appeared in this exact spot, and in our daughter's room?"

Harry looked up at the faces of the two older Grangers. Hermione looked like a miniature version of her mother, except for the fact that Allison's hair was in bushy black locks. She smiled at the boy kindly, and the wizard could see the worry in her eyes. Her father also held the same concern in his eyes, but his face was much sterner as he stared at the boy calculatingly, unnerving him slightly. "I don't know. I just, had to get away from something, and the next thing I know, I'm here. I think my magic took me somewhere where it thought I would be safe."

Allison looked over to her husband, and they exchanged looks of fear. They didn't know much about the magic part, but they were pretty positive they knew what the boy had been trying to escape, judging from his injuries. "Well, it's alright. I guess you just needed a safe place to stop for a while."

Both Hermione and Harry were taken aback by Allison's words. Hermione had expected her to ask further into the matter, yet she had dropped it completely.

The boy knew that their kindness aside, he couldn't stay there for longer than he had. He marched to the corner slowly, before turning to face the Grangers. "I'm sorry for having disturbed you. I should get going now."

"Wait!" Hermione ran at him, worried he would vanish. He was her chance at knowing what was happening to her. She couldn't let this moment slip out of her hands. "I need you to tell me about magic. I've been doing things that no ordinary human can. I can make thing float, or disappear. I can even change the colour of things if I concentrate."

Robert's face morphed from one of suspicion and doubt to shock and confusion very rapidly. He looked between his daughter and the strange boy, as if wanting to confirm what Hermione had just said. Allison herself gasped at her daughter's words, as she found it difficult to imagine that Hermione was not only able to perform magic, but had also kept it a secret from them.

Harry stood surprised at her confession, and out of the corner of his eyes he could see that her parents had looks of even greater surprise. Harry allowed his magic to flow out of him and surround the girl. He was shocked when her own magic reacted by becoming even more powerful, if only slightly. She did indeed have magic within her.

The boy smiled at her, before cupping his hands in front of his mouth. He slowly blew into his hands, and the young Granger could see a glow emanate from within his fists.

Robert was only growing more perplexed by the wild situation. The boy seemed to be forming aomething using his magic, and the idea of that caused him to protectively edge toward Hermione.

Harry was not sure what he was doing, but he just wanted to create something which would keep him connected to Hermione. She was the first person his age he had met who was kind to him. Who didn't judge him, but rather chose to trust him. It caused a sharp sensation of delight in his chest, and a small smile formed on his face. He was glad to have gotten away from the Dursleys. He was even gladder that he had ended meeting someone like Hermione.

And he channeled all those thoughts, all of that joy, and that desire to remain friends with her into his palms, causing a soft glow to emanate from his hands.

He drew back, before revealing what had manifested in his hands to the Grangers. On his palms were two small crystal, each one being tightly wrapped in strips of leather, forming two necklaces. One glowed a soft amber, while the other was a bright green.

"Keep that away from my daughter!" Robert nearly lunged at the boy, who apparently had drawn two crystals from thin air. He had no idea what those might do to his daughter, and he wasn't too eager to find out.

Hermione in turn looked up toward her father. "Dad, he's just like me, and I need you to trust him. If you can't trust him, than you shouldn't trust me either. I have been confused about the stuff I can do for a long time now, but maybe he can teach me about it. I don't want to live confused about something I can do. I need to understand it Dad, and you know me better than anyone, so you know that's true."

Harry took her action as permission, and came closer once more. This time her father did not react, further encouraging the young boy. He carefully placed the necklace with the amber crystal around Hermione's neck, before donning the other himself. The crystals began to glow madly, and all four of the people present were forced to look away. The light slowly died though, and the crystals stopped glowing completely.

Hermione looked to the boy, and felt a strange feeling of familiarity course through her. "We are now connected Hermione. You are a true witch." The girl nearly jumped as she heard the foreign voice echo in her mind, before she realised it was the boy who sat in front of her.

"Now I'll be able to talk to you whenever you wish. This way I can tell you all I know about magic." Harry explained, before turning to her parents. "I promise you, no harm will come to your daughter from this."

Robert had seemingly calmed down greatly, as he studied the crystals. "So, this should allow you to teach Hermione about her magical abilities?" He inquired, still unsure of the boy.

"Yes. And I'll also know where she is, no matter where she goes as long as she wears this necklace." Harry replied, before walking back to the corner of the room. "Now, I need to go. And once again, I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"Wait! What's your name?" Allison yelled out the question just before Harry left, wanting to know a bit more about the magical being that had apparently appeared in there daughter's room.

Harry smiled once more. He had rarely been shown such kindness from others, and felt as if he could trust the Grangers, merely judging by the sheer concern they had for him, and the great love he could see they had for their daughter. "My name is Harry, Harry Potter." With that, he told his magic to take him to the nearest place where it could sense magic. He felt the feeling of weightlessness encompass him once more, and just as he vanished, he heard Hermione yell, "Bye Harry!"

As the boy faded out of existence, the older Grangers sat down onto the bed, taking a deep breath to digest what had just occurred. Robert let out a small chuckle, catching the attention of both the females. "Well, Hermione, looks like you're an authentic witch."

Hermione grinned madly at these words, before letting out a shrill shriek of excitement, and hugging her parents.

In the office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, a small contraption began to glow red and spout out puffs of smoke. As it were, no one was in the office to notice the alarm. The device furiously pumped out smoke, before it began to crack. Slowly, the cracks spread, before it shattered completely, pieces flying all over the office, and the object releasing a gigantic cloud of smoke. The next morning would see to it that the House Elves employed by Hogwarts would clean up any evidence of the alarm having gone off at all.

Harry felt himself land on a cold cobblestone street, and he looked around to see that he was in a dark street, surrounded by shops that had been locked up for the night. He got up, brushing some dirt off of his clothes, before walking up the street.

The young wizard didn't know what to make of his strange method of transport. It was most likely his magic responding to his commands, taking him to wherever he desired. Kind of like teleportation. 'Hmmm, maybe that's what I'll call it.'

He saw bookstores, clothes shops, and even an ice cream parlour, ur all were dead silent. At the end of the alley was a large building, with uneven marble pillar, and a door of solid gold, but it too was closed.

As he walked past a large pet store, he suddenly heard voices, or more specifically, cackling laughter. He turned toward the direction the laughter came from, and saw another alley which broke off from the main street. He could definitely hear laughter from the alley, and he could see dim lights just around the turn. Knowing that it would be best if he asked someone else about this magic business, he began to hastily walk down the lane, oblivious to the sign that hung on the wall, reading, 'Knockturn Alley'.

As the boy continued moving toward the light source, and turned the corner to see a huge group of people. They were dressed in a variety of colours, but all of them wore robes with cloaks over it to protect from the night. The source of the light had been a large fire they had going in the centre. After a moment, he realised that most of the people were asleep, and the others were too occupied with bottles of beer to even notice him. He discreetly moved around the people, sticking to the shadows as best possible. He sat himself down in a corner taking a deep breath, and allowing himself to rest. He had greatly underestimated how exhausted he had been by the use of magic, and felt himself falling asleep before he even realised it.

The next morning, Harry woke to the bustle of business, and the constant chatter of people. He put up his hand in a feeble attempt to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight. After allowing himself a moment to wake up completely, he got up from the cold floor, and looked around to see the most bizarre scene he could witness. He saw people rushing around, most wearing robes, while some opted to wear shirts and pants. Some were carrying bags and loads of goods, moving through the crowd with practiced actions.

The boy began walking towards the main street that he had landed upon yesterday. Unlike the previous night, it was now bustling with activity, and Harry was barely able to navigate his way through the thick crowds. He walked straight towards the white building, which he saw was labelled 'Gringotts Bank'. He knew he'd need money for whatever he wanted to do and for food. And banks had money, maybe they'd be willing to give him a small loan.

As he stepped into the bank, he read the warning inscribed upon the large doors, and couldn't help but feel great fear. His fear only grew when he saw the guards, which were creatures armed to the tooth with dagger. As he walked in, they kept their glares aimed at him, as if daring him to make a move.

Stepping inside was no better, as he was still surrounded by the same creatures, except now they wore suits, which only made them seem even more frightening. Harry did his best to not show any fear, as he strolled down the hall to the only table where there was an unoccupied teller.

The table was a good metre taller than him, so he knocked against the wood to catch the attention of the creature. Aforementioned creature leaned over the desk to look down at the boy, before muttering in a low, rough voice. "What, may I do for you, young sir?"

Harry was greatly intimidated by his smile, which revealed a mouthful of dagger like teeth. But he steeled his nerves, before responding. "I would like to take a loan."

The creature continued to stare at the boy for a few seconds, almost as if he was pondering something. "We do not offer loans. But I think that I can help you in another way. Follow me."

The teller stepped out from behind the table, and revealed himself to be just as tall as Harry. He gestured for the young wizard to follow him, leading into a small corridor that continued on from the main lobby. The boy watched as they passed many doors, before they stopped in front of one which was a morbid black, with gold on its corners. The teller pushed open the door, and made a gesture for the boy to step in.

Inside was a small office, which was grand despite its size. There was an ornate oak table resting opposite the door, behind which was a large armchair. On the armchair was yet another of the creatures, suited in fine clothes, working. He looked up to see Harry enter. "Griphook, who is this?"

The teller bowed slightly to the other creature, before he replied. "This is the scion of the Potter family, sir. He is in need of funds."

The senior of the two placed a calculative gaze upon the boy, before leaning back in his seat. "Very well. You are dismissed, Griphook."

The teller shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind him. Harry couldn't help but feel as if was a small animal, being studied by a vicious predator. The banker gestured towards a small chair in front of him, and Harry quickly sat down.

"Well, well, well, it has been quite some time since a Potter scion stepped into my office. Now, tell me, what do you require?"

Harry replied hastily, not wanting to annoy the creature. "I just need some money. And what do you mean by Potter scion?"

The creature seemed rather surprised by the question, but he masked it well. "You are the male heir of the Potters. And regarding the matter of money, that can easily be arranged. Your parents left you a rather generous trust fund in their will, and the funds have been accumulating for quite some time now."

Harry was greatly surprised by this information. His aunt had always told him his mother and father had no money, and had left him nothing. But now he was being told that his parents had gone as far as to set up a trust fund for him. It was possible that Petunia had merely not known of the money his parents might have had in the magical world, but he doubted it greatly. "How much money is there right now?"

"I think it would be best if I first explained a bit to you regarding your family." The creature spoke cryptically. "The Potters were known for their strong magical abilities, and produced some of the finest Aurors in Britain. Those who did not wish to fight became Unspeakables, another very respectable position. Both of these jobs brought fame and fortune to your family, and every generation added more to the wealth of the Potters. Today, it stands as one of the richest families in Magical Britain. Even your parents contributed greatly to the family's treasures." The creature pulled a thick tome out of a drawer, putting it down on the table.

"This contains information on your parents, financially speaking. Every audit, every transaction, and every deposit they ever made is in here. Your father was a Senior Auror, which gave him a rather fat salary of 40,000 Galleons per year. As it were, he only worked for two years before his untimely death.

Your mother, however, created something that still benefits the Potters today. She produced potions which could hold spells. Drink a Protego spell, and one would grow more resilient for a certain time period, and so on. She sold the rights of those potions to an American company, Unimagical was the name of I remember correctly, and in turn she receives one percent of the royalties from every such potion they make. Over the past thirteen years, their business has been booming in the states, and your pockets have deepened significantly as a result. Let me see…yes, the average gain from Unimagical is around 80,000 Galleons per annum. And that's despite the fact that they're selling the stuff as cheap as dirt."

Harry didn't seem to understand much. All that he registered was that his parents had also both been magical, and that his mother had been something of a genius. But the other things, such as Aurors and Galleons simply flew over him

The banker took stock of the boy's face, and noted that he was still confused. "Now, do you have any questions, Mr. Potter?"

"What are Galleons, and Aurors? And how do you make spells and potions?" The creature sighed at the barrage of questions. It seemed like the boy was out of touch with his magical heritage. "Do you know what I am, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked away, slightly ashamed of having to admit to that fact. The creature sighed once more. He had his work cut out for him. "I am Pincrack, and like my fellow brethren, am a Goblin, and we manage Gringotts, the Wizarding World's Bank. Galleons, are the highest form of currency in the magical world, with the others being Sickles, and Knuts. Twenty nine Knuts form a Sickle, and 17 Sickles form a Galleon. An Auror is a highly trained professional who works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and protects the magical populace from threats. Spells and potions are forms of magic. Spells are usually used with a wand, although some may use a staff, or nothing at all. Potions are brewed using magical ingredients, and all have separate effects, depending on the ingredients. And I am willing to bet you haven't heard of Hogwarts either." When he saw the boy timidly shake his head, he continued. "It is Britain's school for witchcraft and wizardry, and it is most likely that you shall attend it. The place you are currently in is Diagon Alley, the largest magical market in all of London."

Harry sat back as he allowed himself to think over those words. His parents must have been good at magic if they did so much. He felt a small weight lift off his shoulders as he realised that his parents had indeed left him something in the world. It was also comforting to know that his parents had been magical, just as he was. "What about the trust fund you mentioned earlier?"

"Well, the trust fund gains 500 Galleons every year since your birth. And over the last eight years, it has amassed no less than 4,000 Galleons. The Muggle equivalent should be around 20,000 pounds."

Harry could feel his jaw slacken and his eyes widen as the creature spoke. He doubted that he'd be able to spend such a massive amount in three decades, let alone until the age of eight. And suddenly, having such a fortune thrust upon him. He felt eager to go out a purchase for himself a few good things. But first he had a few important questions to ask Pincrack a few questions. "How can I withdraw some of that money?"

The goblin smiled at the boy, who seemed to have processed all that information rather quickly. "To access the trust vault, you require a key. But, judging by your situation, you evidently don't have it. In that case, you have another option. Most old accounts, such as yours, have a identification system. Although I'm more than sure that Griphook can tell you all that you need to know regarding that once you see your vault. You may take him from here, Griphook."

"Yes, sir." Harry nearly screamed at the voice that came from behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see the teller that had brought him to the office standing behind.

The goblin grinned slightly, obviously enjoying the reaction he had received. "Please follow me, Mr. Potter. I shall take you to your vault." With that he turned on his heels, and Harry began to follow. Then silently walked back to the main lobby, which was much more crowded than it had been ten minutes ago.

They turned towards the mouth of a cave, which had ten sets of railings, and ten small carts on each set of railings. Griphook helped the boy into one in a rather forceful manner, before pulling himself into it as well. He then pulled down a lever, and looked to Harry with a mischievous smile. "Brace yourself."

But Harry had no time to do so as the cart lurched forth with great velocity, descending into the dark tunnels at breakneck speeds. The young wizard held onto the sides of the cart for dear life, but was still able to enjoy the rush of wind against his face. The cart moved up, down, right, left, diagonally and in all directions imaginable, until it finally screeched to a halt. There was a wide space to stand on, next to which was a long wall, with large doors built into it after every few metres.

"Vault 687. Step right here please." The goblin waited until the boy had stepped off before he himself got off, and lightly pulled Harry up to the black metallic door.

"Now press your hand against the door, and it shall identify you." The wizard followed Griphook's instructions, carefully holding his hand against the door. He felt a slight prick on his palm, and immediately recoiled his hand. But the purpose had been fulfilled, as the door swung inwards, showing the interior of the vault.

The first thing that Harry caught sight of was the mountain of gold coins that was piled in the centre, surrounded by smaller piles of silver and bronze coins. He stepped inside and lifted one of the Galleons, subconsciously noting that it felt heavy enough to be actual gold.

"This bag can expand to hold up to 1000 Galleons at a time, and I believe those would be sufficient for any expenditures you shall make in the near future." Griphook held out a small leather pouch in his clawed fingers, and Harry took it with great care, not wanting to risk cutting himself. He didn't think that the bag would be able to hold so many coins, but there was only one way to find out.

Harry used the bag to scoop up bunches of the coins, but he didn't feel it getting any heavier. It took him nearly a minute to fill it, but he knew it was full when it had filled to the brim with the wizarding currency. He was amazed that it still carried no weight, as if it was completely empty.

Griphook waited patiently as the Potter scion filled the pouch. He could see that the boy was a novice when it came to matters regarding the wizarding world, but he still didn't understand how he could be so enthralled by things as simple as an expansion charm.

Just as the boy was wrapping up his mission of collecting as much gold as the bag could hold, his eyes fell upon a small, leather bound book that lay in the far corner of the vault. He shoved the pouch into his pocket before walking towards it, picking it up from the ground. It showed obvious signs of wear and tear, but once he opened it, he saw that it was full with long passages, which were labelled with dates after every few pages. The handwriting was mostly a neat, flowing hand, but would sometimes feature a scratchy, barely legible scrawl. "Can I take this as well, Griphook?"

"You can take anything in here, it's all yours." The goblin replied, getting tired of having to deal with the ignorant boy.

Harry quickly grabbed the book as well, clutching it close to himself as they left the vault, which automatically closed behind them.

They sat back in the cart, and this time Griphook pulled on a different lever, before it went flying back up the way they came.

**Author's Note:**

**Hello people, this is the first chapter of a story I wrote earlier this year, from a different account on this website, and now I'm just in the process of recollecting all of these to my main account.**

Peace Out

Kofukuna Shi No Kami


	2. Chapter 2

**Perfesser: Damn, I need to stop starting these notes this way.**

**Anyway, I am really sorry for the time this took, but I had a ton of work to get done this weekend, and I also had to move to my dad's, so that took a load of time, and now I'm rambling. Ack! I'll just try to get the next chapter out ASAP.**

**Oh, and if you think I'm turning Harry into an ambitious, cunning heir of Slytherin, hold on for more.**

**Thanks a bunch for all the support you guys gave me from the previous chapter. Although it's sad that I'm eating cookies alone since nobody even tried to guess the hidden reference. It was from the American TV show, House M.D., where I referred to Robert Chase and Allison Cameron, one of the first major couples. I don't own House M.D., and as a matter of fact, I don't own Harry Potter either.**

**I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter as well. Read, review, and maybe favourite or follow. And belated Merry Christmases and Happy New Years to all those around the world!**

Harry reentered the office of Pincrack once again, and the goblin grinned up at him once he noticed the diary he held close to himself. "That was the last thing put into the trust vault by your parents, on 18th of September, 1981."

The boy remained silent, although there was one constant question bouncing around his mind. If his parents were so amazing, how did they die? He doubted it could've been a simple car crash.

"Now, you're parents had a home in Godric's Hollow, although there is not much left, after the incident. That means that you will have to either live with your nearest of kin, or finds other means of accommodation by yourself." The goblin continued with a more somber expression.

Harry shuddered slightly at the thought of going back to the Dursleys especially after the way he had left. Though he still wondered what Pincrack had meant by 'the incident'. "I think I'll have to find a place myself."

The goblin nodded in reply. "I would recommend the Leaky Cauldron as a temporary residence in that case. It is just at the entrance of Diagon Alley, and allows you to stay in touch with the magical world easily. And the place is run by a wizard, so you don't have to worry about slipping up and revealing the magical world to Muggles, the non-magical people."

Harry nodded once again, thankful that he would not be forced to back to the Dursleys. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Pincrack, but I believe I should be going now."

The goblin released a deep chuckle, which was just as harsh as his voice. "While I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Potter, it is rather unnecessary. It is my job to tell young heirs who have no guardians from their families about this sort of stuff, and I get paid enormous amounts for this. This is what I am paid to do, to introduce people like you to a history of their magical families. No gratitude is required."

The young wizard found himself rather unnerved by the creature's callous manner, but he knew that the goblin had still assisted him. "Well, I should go then. Bye Mr. Pincrack."

The banker watched as the boy rose from his seat, and slowly left the room. "Goodbye, Mr. Potter." The muttered words were barely heard by the wizard.

Harry found Griphook standing in front of the door, awaiting him. "Don't worry, we may be great bankers, but most of us have hearts of stones. We have found that such stuff often interferes with our line of work."

Harry nodded once again, acknowledging the teller's words, but the creature was already a few metres down the hall, walking back toward the main lobby, and the boy rushed to follow.

"Griphook, could I ask you a question?" He inquired timidly, unsure if the goblin was willing to open up.

"That was a question, Mr. Potter, but you may ask me another." Came the teller's gravelly response, devoid of any emotion.

"I don't have any Muggle money, so how do I purchase anything from a Muggle store?"

The goblin sighed. Sometimes wizards could be so ignorant. "One Galleon, when seen by a Muggle, is a five pound note, which is the value of one Galleon. A Sickle is seen as a fifty pence coin, while a Knut is a single penny."

Harry at first wanted to question how that was even possible, but he caught himself. With all that he had learnt today, he was doubting whether there was even a thing such as the impossible.

The two found themselves in the lobby, where Griphook turned to face the boy. He reached into a pocket of his suit, before pulling out a small velvet box, and handing it to the wizard.

"Inside is a key, which when presented will allow anyone access to your account. It would be in your best interest if you kept it safe."

Harry ran his fingers over the soft velvet of the box, but chose to not open it in such a public place, and stuffed it into the same pocket that held his leather pouch.

"Now I must get back to work. Have a good day, Mr. Potter."

Harry asked around for the Leaky Cauldron, and although his question raised quite a few eyebrows, he soon found himself directed to a tavern, where dozens of people sat enjoying their breakfast or making jovial small talk with friends. Avoiding the more boisterous groups, the boy scurried to the bar, where an old man, with a slightly hunched back stood, using his wand to wash the dishes. The man smiled at Harry as the boy approached, lowering his wand for a moment. "Well hullo there lad. What do you s'pose I could do fer you?"

"I would like to stay here for a while. The goblins said this was a good place." Harry responded timidly.

The man chuckled deeply. "They did now, did they? You should know I do charge, no matter how small the resident."

The younger wizard nodded quickly. "I'm willing to pay, sir."

The man let out another guffaw, which seemed to be coming from his stomach. "Call me Tom, boy, none of that sir business. And if yer willing to pay, then its one Galleon for a week. I'll throw in food and housekeeping fer another Galleon."

Harry nodded in agreement, before quickly pulling out eight Galleons from the pouch in his pocket. He counted the, once more just to be sure, before handing them to Tom, who honestly seemed surprised that the boy had such an amount. "I'd like to stay here for four weeks, with food."

The bartender gingerly accepted the coins, before reaching under the bar, and pulling out a large, heavy key, upon which was engraved the number '8'.

"Room eight's the first one on the left upstairs. I hope you enjoy yer stay here. And as long as you don't ask too many questions, neither will I." Tom offered the boy the key, which was not as heavy as it had seemed.

"Thank you very much, Tom. Could I also get some breakfast?" Inquired the boy, as he put the key into his pocket.

"I'll whip something up fer you, but I don't send food up. If you wanna eat, you'll be eating here."

Harry nodded once again, before telling the man that he'd be right back, and making his way up the rickety staircase to his room. He jabbed the key into the rather rusty lock, before pushing the wooden door open.

The room was not luxurious by any means, but it was spades better than what the boy was used to. There was a small bed next to a window, which showed the bust streets of London below. On the opposite wall was a small shelf, upon which were some toiletries, and a hair brush. A mirror hung above the shelf, although the surface was rather grimy from ages of use.

There was a small wardrobe in the far corner, close to the bed. Harry swung it open, only to find a small towel, along with a plethora of cobwebs. The toilet had all the basic necessities, including a small shower. The boy turned on the water, and before he knew it he was taking a shower. Harry had learned to cherish showers, as he was rarely allowed to do so regularly while at the Dursleys. And all the grime, dirt and dried blood that was on him from the last night had begun to bother him.

After stepping out of the shower and putting on the same clothes, Harry quickly went back downstairs. He had patted his long, shaggy black hair over his forehead to hide the scar there. The boy didn't believe that lightning shaped scars were too popular, even for magicals. He sat back at the bar, and a moment later he found a rather large breakfast in front of him. There were buttered slices of toast, an omelet, along with a side of bacon and a bowl of porridge. To wash it all down there was a large mug of tea. The boy pecked at his food slowly, not used to eating such amounts, but he soon found that after all that had happened last night, especially his increased use of magic had left him drained, and his appetite needed all the food it could get.

As he thought of the previous night, he recalled the crystal he had given to Hermione. He looked down to his own necklace, holding the green crystal in his palm. I wish I could talk to Hermione. He focused the thought in his mind, repeating it over and over, until he eventually felt a strange sensation in his mind, and the crystal began to glow slightly. Harry looked around the room to make sure that nobody had noticed, before turning his attention back to the necklace. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

He heard a blurred sound in his thoughts, but it slowly grew more distinct, and he was sure that it was indeed the voice of the young witch he had seen the previous night. "Harry, I thought you would never talk. How is it that you're contacting me through this necklace?"

Harry shrugged, before he remembered that she couldn't see him. "I don't know myself. I just, asked my magic to do it, and it happened."

"How does that work though?" Harry could hear her enthusiasm in her voice, or was it her thoughts. Either way he couldn't help but smile at her fascination with magic. "I've tried to make things happen by thinking about it, but it just doesn't seem to work. The only time it works is when I'm really cross, or really happy."

The boy bit his lip as he thought a reason to explain that. "That might be because I've been doing magic for much longer, and I'm used to it better. I've actually been doing small stuff since I was five."

Harry was willing to bet that he had heard Hermione gasp in shock. "That's amazing! No wonder you can control it as well as you did yesterday." The bushy haired girl wondered if she'd ever be able to perform at the same level, give that Harry had a huge head start. "How old are you anyways?"

The girl grew slightly worried for a moment, as Harry didn't respond for quite some time. But just as she was about to repeat her question, she heard a much softer reply. "I, I'm eight years old."

Hermione was quite shocked at that. Judging by how small he seemed, she would've thought that Harry was somewhere between six or seven years old. But to learn that he was merely one year younger than her was rather surprising. "I'm nine. But it's just even more amazing to know that you can do such magic at such a young age. Like that thing you did to appear in my room and then leave. What was that, some kind of teleportation?"

Harry laughed lightly at the compliment. "Maybe that's what I'll call it. I'm sure that's something simple, and I know that once you begin to interact with your magic more you'll be doing great."

"We'll just have to see about that. I'm not even sure of how I can learn magic, let alone become adept at it. Where does one learn about something that most people don't even believe exists?"

Harry was confused for a moment before he realised that Hermione didn't know anything at all about other magicals, other than him himself. "Hermione, there is a whole lot more to this than I had thought. Apparently there's a whole magical community hidden around parts of the world, and there's even a huge magical market in London. There are shops, and other wizards and witches. I even saw a bookstore. I am actually there right now."

Hermione made a sound that sounded like a squeal of excitement. "Oh my god! What is it like there? Do people just use magic to do everything? What about the bookstore, what kind of books does it have?"

"Calm down Hermione. I haven't been out much, but most of the people use wands to do magic here. And I promise, as soon as I check out the bookstore, I'll tell you all about it."

"Alright, but I'm holding you to that promise Harry." And with that the boy felt the foreign sensation fade, and the glow in the crystal died out once more.

He felt a strange sensation of joy fill his heart. Perhaps this was what friendship was like. He allowed that thought to sink in, before he got up from the bar and made his way back into the alley, having grown much more curious to learn more of the magical world.

Harry soon found himself stepping into a large shop outside of which was a sign that read, 'Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions'. Inside he saw measuring tapes flying around, and many customers stood stiffly, being measured by the tapes.

Before Harry could ask for any assistance, one of the tapes flitted towards him, quickly taking note of all his lengths, even measuring the distance between his ears at the end. After the tape was done, a small piece of paper appeared in the air in front of him, which he hastily grabbed. On the paper were scribbled many numbers, and the wizard was sure that these were his own measurements.

He looked around, rather confused as to what to do, before he took note of others also holding pieces of papers, who were browsing the stores and selecting cloths of different textures and colours. Harry followed by looking around for anything that he might like.

The problem, Harry realised, was that he liked all the colours quite a lot. Having been handed down Dudley's clothes was not good in any way, but right now, having to pick out colours, he didn't understand how Dudley had ever been able to choose anything.

"Can I help you dear?" The soft voice came from behind him. He turned to see a middle aged woman, who wore a magenta robe, and had a wand pulled out by her side.

"It's just that I can't decide which colours I want." Harry explained. The woman seemed to smile slightly at the problem, before helping the boy nonetheless.

She looked over the samples for a bit, before pulling out a royal purple cloth, followed by one which was a light blue. Then, for pants, she offered him black and dark blue in denim.

"I've found that colours like these look good on children. What do you think?"

Harry couldn't help but agree with the lady. The colours did seem to catch one's attention strongly, while also looking elegant. "They are really nice. Thank you for your help Ms….."

"Oh, just call me Madame Malkin. What about you?" The woman inquired, as they both walked toward a counter that was closer to the back of the shop.

"I'm Harry."

Madame Malkin made her way behind the counter, before putting the cloths on top. "So, Harry, how would you like your robes?"

"I'm not quite sure, I've never worn robes before. All I wear are t shirts or jeans." The boy said in an unsure tone.

"Ah, Muggle clothes. Then why don't you just tell me which colour of shirts you would like, and I'll make you a robe alongside that which I know you'll like." The woman replied in a cheery voice.

Harry agreed with the woman, before deciding that he wanted shirts and T-shirts in both the colours. The woman made a few notes in a large journal she had, before smiling brightly back at the boy. "It's five sickles for each shirt, and a Galleon for the robe. And then it's two Sickles per each pair of pants. With four shirts, four jeans and a robe, your total is two Galleons and thirteen Sickles. It'll take about two hours to get your clothes ready for you. How about you just explore the Alley until they're ready, eh?"

"That sounds fun. Thank you very much, Madame Malkin." The boy quickly took out three Galleons and gave them, to the woman, who gave him back six Sickles. With that he walked out of the shop and back into the mass of people gathered in the street. At this point he knew he had one thing to do. Go to the bookstore.

The large sign above the shop read, 'Flourish and Blotts' in large, old lettering. There didn't seem to be much people inside, but of those that were indeed there, most were congregated close to the aisles labelled, 'Schoolbooks'.

Harry's gaze flew from shelf to shelf, amazed by the sheer amount of books housed within the store. The bookcases towered over the wizard, and he even saw stacks that were levitating all around the shop.

He entered the aisle that read 'Basics for Muggleborns', and saw that most of the books looked like introductions to the different aspects of the magical world.

As his eyes scanned the tremendous amount of books, one stood out in front of him, 'The Magical And You'. He grabbed it, and started moving to the counter, but his gaze fell upon a small table that sat near the corner of the shop, isolated from most of the other books.

A small sign hung above the pile of old books, reading 'Old Books : 1 Sickle each!'. Harry couldn't help but look through the books, as they seemed to be quite interesting. One book especially caught his attention. 'The Art of Wandless Sorcery'. Harry nabbed it, before walking to the counter, happy with the two books he had found for himself.

He paid one Galleon and one Sickle to the man behind the counter, before being given a bag for his books. He left the shop immediately after, only to see that the Alley was now completely filled with people. At first it had been bearable, but now it was hard to even stay on his feet.

His eyes caught the small alley he had gone into the previous night, and he saw that it was much less crowded. Harry manoeuvred his way through the bust street, stepping into the alley. In the light of day, he was able to read the old, tattered sign that hung on the wall.

He made his way down Knockturn Alley, where he saw many shops were open. There were people here as well, but they mostly kept to themselves, ignoring him as he walked through the street.

As Harry looked around, he saw a small pet store that was open. The shop had a window, and the boy could see a plethora of animals sitting in the cages within.

He pushed open the door, and entered the dark store. The only light was from the few beams of sunlight that filtered through the windows, and a musty smell filled the air. Mixed along with the stenches of all the animals, it was pungent enough to make Harry wrinkle his nose slightly.

Harry gazed at the various beasts that were present in the shop. He saw dozens of owls, all of different colour and size, in cages hanging from the ceiling. There were also many cats, prowling in their own cages, lazily snarling at each other occasionally.

Suddenly he heard a soft yet sharp voice, almost like a forced whisper. He turned around to see a cage that looked to be empty. But after a moment of looking at it carefully, he realised that it had merely seemed empty due to the lack of light. On the floor of the cage was a rather thin, yet long snake. It's scales were mostly a deep black, but a line of dark green scales ran down the centre of its formed, although one could hardly tell.

The sounds continued, and it took Harry a while to realise that it was coming from the snake itself. Harry leaned down cautiously, so as to listen better. As he sat down, he could see the snake's forked tongue probe out of its mouth as it spoke.

§You carry the magic of the Great Parselmouth. It is faint, but cannot be missed. The magic is in your blood.§

Harry felt that he might be losing his mind if he believed that snakes could talk. But he managed to convince his reasoning that with all the things that he had learned were true, this just might be one of them.

§How is it that someone with the ability has appeared before me? What may I do for you sire?§

Harry forced himself to not think of how weird his actions may be before he replied. §What do you mean by someone like me? And how can I understand what you're saying?§

§You speak the noble language of serpents, sire. The questions you have just posed prove that you are fluent in Parseltongue.§ The snake responded in its whisper like voice.

Harry grew even further confused at this. §But I cant speak any language other than English. How can you understand me?§ The wizard inquired.

The snake made a sound that Harry felt was some kind of laughter. §Parseltongue is not something that can merely be learnt. The speaker must have a magical affinity for it. You evidently have great magical ability, and if I am correct, you have the magic of the legendary Plarselmouth in you. That grants you to the ability to communicate with our kind without any practice. It is a natural ability that you're born with.§

Harry had just about opened his mouth to ask more, when he heard heavy footsteps fall behind him. He stood up and turned around to see a large man who might even be able to match up with his uncle Vernon.

"What're you doing here, boy? Scram, or I'm gonna git you!" The large man bellowed angrily.

Harry felt his instincts yelling at him to obey the man, but he stood his ground, steeling his nerves as he spoke up. "I'm here to get a pet."

"Is that so? In that case, which one of em do you fancy?" The man said with a glint in his eye, seeing a great opportunity to make quick money.

Harry took a quick look of the entire shop, but found his gaze once again falling upon the serpent that was in the cage behind him. He made up his mind, and replied with a tone of finality. "I'll take this snake."

The smile on the shopkeeper's face fell momentarily, before he forced it back up. "But that's nothing but a common garden snake. I'm sure you'd prefer something of greater value."

The young wizard answered immediately in a more firm tone. "I'm sure I'll just take the snake. How much is it for?"

The man sighed in defeat. "The snake's ten Galleons, but I'll give you the cage with it for twenty."

Harry considered it briefly, but he decided against it. He knew that it would be wrong to cage the creature, so he pulled out only ten Galleons. "I'll take just the snake, mister."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." After accepting the money, the man kneeled as he unlocked the cage, before pulling out the snake rather roughly. He dropped it into Harry's hands, where the snake coiled itself around his forearm. Harry had underestimated its length, as it seemed to be nearly three feet long. His small form found it hard to keep balanced with the animal on him, but he soon grew used to it as he stumbled out of the pet store, still carrying his bag of books.

He decided to return to his room, and on the way, he stopped at Madame Malkin's. He was pleased to see that his clothes had been made, and was even happier when he saw that Madame Malkin had put in a complimentary cloak, which had a black exterior, while the inside was the deep purple he had chosen earlier, with the hems being embroidered with a sharp blue. He thanked the woman very graciously, but she chose to merely brush it off with a chuckle. "It's the least I could do for such a cute little customer." She had said, pinching his cheeks lightly.

When Harry finally arrived in his room, he saw it was much tidier than when he had left it, proof that housekeeping had made a visit. He dropped the bags on his bed, before pulling the gold pouch and the leather bound diary from his pockets and putting them on the bed. He then pulled the curtains over his windows, and proceeded to change into a pair of blue jeans, and a purple shirt. He also allowed the snake to roam around on the floor.

He was amazed at how comfortable the the clothes felt, although it could be just due to the fact that they were new. He wasn't exactly used to new clothes. He marvelled at the quality of it, and couldn't help but feel giddy at the fact that he had new clothes all for himself.

He pulled out his new robe and examined the colours. He was glad to have allowed Madame Malkin to choose for him, as he really liked the purple, which was complemented by the blue design.

He carefully stacked all his clothes inside the wardrobe, before he turned to the serpent. §What is so special about me that allows me to talk to snakes.§

§We refer to those with your abilities as Parselmouths. And it is usually a natural ability for those who have the magic of the first Parselmouth, Salazar Slytherin, like you.§ The snake spoke, and the boy could feel the great reverence it held for the man it mentioned.

Harry cocked his head in confusion. Who the heck was this Salazar Slytherin, and why did the snake say he had his magic? Seemed like he was up for a long conversation.

**Author's Notes:**

**Hi guys and gals, this is still a repost from my other account to here. I'm trying to collect all my work into one place, to organize it a little.**

**Other than that there isn't much I have to say. So, I hope you enjoyed reading, if you have any questions please feel free to PM or review.**

Peace Out

Kofukuna Shi No Kami


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

It had been a week since Harry had begun living at the Leaky Cauldron, and he was really beginning to enjoy being away from the Dursleys. He had more or less remained within his room, mostly only leaving to eat his meals. He had felt himself growing stronger now that he was eating regular meals, and he could feel that it was also having a positive effect on his magic.

Over the last few days he had been focusing on learning more about the world of magic. He had found out that his serpent was a male, and named him Bastille, which the snake had found acceptable. Bastille has also explained to him that he was no ordinary 'garden snake', as the man at the store had believed. He was actually a magical serpent, and had some Basilisk blood in him. While this did not grant him anything as dangerous as the gaze of the Basilisk, it allowed him to produce a venom that was just as powerful as a Basilisk's.

The boy had learnt that Salazar Slytherin was a wizard who had lived more than a millennia ago, and had been able to wield magic to such extent that he was one of the strongest wizards to have ever lived. The man had invented Parseltongue, a language that would allow him to speak to snakes. It was more a form of magic than an actual language, as it effected the person's words in a way that whatever they said could be understood by snakes if they so wished. The magical ability was then passed down through Slytherin's blood and magic.

At first Harry had thought that he was a descendant of Slytherin's, but Bastille had informed him otherwise. He stated that Harry only had the magic of Salazar, which made him a Parselmouth. How this was possible though, even the serpent was unsure of.

The young wizard had also perused the two books he had bought from Flourish and Blotts. He had first begun 'The Magical And You', which turned out to be much longer than he thought it would be, but it was benefitting him greatly nonetheless. He had learnt much about magic, the Ministry of Magic, and even Hogwarts. The name of Salazar Slytherin had come up once more while Harry read the book, as one of the four founders of Hogwarts.

The book also explained the unwritten hierarchy of the magical community. Purebloods, or those who were descended from a magical family, with no Muggle blood in them, were considered to be the top of the food chain. Under them fell those who were born to a person Pureblood and a person who was anything but a Pureblood, magical or otherwise. These were known as halfbloods, and the children of two halfbloods would also be halfbloods. And those who were born from two Muggles were known as Muggleborn, although there was a more derogatory term that was also used for them. 'Mudbloods'. Harry had been quite shocked to learn that even in the magical world, where things had the potential to be perfect, they couldn't be so. The book told of crimes committed by wizards and witches, both against their own race and other magicals.

He also learnt more about some recent history, relating to the past two decades. One of the most important events had been the rise and fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Imagine his surprise when he learned that he was mentioned in the book. The passage had read:

After the Ministry had failed on numerous occasions to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the populace lost hope, and began to submit to the Dark Lord. That was, until the night of Halloween, of 1981. On this night, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated by a mere infant, Harry Potter. When Aurors arrived at the scene, they found that James and Lily Potter had perished of the Killing Curse, a trademark of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's forces.

It remains unknown how the infant was able to bring an end to the Dark Lord's power, but the people of magical remain in gratitude for their saviour. Many have tried to contact the boy, but Albus Dumbledore, a friend of the Potters' has informed the public that he is being raised in an environment where he shall be safe and trained to the best of his magical abilities.

This text had greatly infuriated Harry for two many purposes. He was mad at the Dursleys for having told him that his parents were useless drunks who had gotten themselves killed in a car crash, especially now that he knew they were revered heroes who had died fighting one of the greatest threats to the magical world. And he was furious at the man called Albus Dumbledore, because he had apparently been the one who chose to put him with the Dursleys, and had been the one who chose to not inform him of his parents or his abilities. He had remained cross for nearly an entire day, merely sitting on his bed, glaring at the opposite wall, brooding.

But he had eventually gotten out of his funk, and was just glad that he had gotten away from the Dursleys.

He had continued speaking with Hermione on a regular basis, and he would often tell her about things that he learned in the book. She had been rather outraged when she learnt of the way the community saw Muggleborn such as herself, but Harry was able to convince her that whatever it was that Purebloods thought was not true, and that it shouldn't matter to her.

At the moment, Harry was getting ready to visit Hermione for a bit. In his hand, he had a brand new copy of 'The Magical And You', which he planned on giving to her as a present. He was also hoping he'd be able to teach his friend more about magic.

He wore black pants and a purple shirt, and over it was his cloak. Bastille once again slid up his sleeve, wrapping himself around the wizard's arm. Making sure that he was completely ready, Harry thought of Hermione, before concentrating on where she was. He then mentally commanded his magic to take him there, and the familiar feeling of weightlessness spread throughout his body, as he disappeared from the room.

* * *

Dumbledore was not having a particularly enjoyable day. He had just returned to Hogwarts after having to deal with some matters concerning the Ministry which required his presence. But after spending a few hours going over paperwork, and petting Fawkes, he turned his attention to a shelf that was on the left side of the office.

He gazed at it lazily for a few moments, before jumping upright, and walking to it in a panic. He searched the entire shelf very thoroughly, before checking the entire office in case he had misplaced the object somewhere. When he still could not find it, he grew further worried.

"Fussy!" He roared rather impatiently, and immediately, a small House Elf appeared before him, bowing deeply.

"Yes, Headmaster?" The creature inquired timidly.

"There, there was an alarm on this shelf! It's gone now. It was of great importance Fussy, so I would like to know if you have any information regarding it." The man spoke in a more level tone, so as to not scare off the Elf.

The aforementioned creature looked up happily, with the answer already spouting from her mouth. "But yes, sir. That device brokes a week ago, and Fussy cleans it up like a good House Elf!" The creature squealed.

Upon hearing this, Dumbledore collapsed back into his seat, holding his head as he thought of this unexpected development. There was only one reason for the sensor to break. That the wards he had put up around Number 4 Privet Drive had fallen. And there were only two ways of that occurring. Either Harry did not consider the Dursleys to be his family, and did not think of the house as his home, or a wizard had forcibly destroyed the wards.

Dumbledore knew he had no time to waste, so he got up, dismissing the Elf with a wave of his hand, and straightened out his robes. He needed to look further into the matter immediately, and there was only one place where that was possible. With that thought, he Disapparated from his office.

The old man arrived in the neighbourhood, and was a stark contrast with the normalcy of the mundane street. His bright purple robes stood out against the dusty pavement, and if it weren't working hours, the residents would have flooded the street to gawk at the odd man, whose silver hair and beard were flowing past his waist. The man walked up to Number Four, before sharply knocking on the door.

He heard some commotion from within, but the door soon flew open to reveal Petunia Dursley, who was smiling nervously while flattening out the apron she wore.

Her smile fell immediately however as she saw who stood at her door. It was another one of them, the people who had ruined her entire life. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, before quickly slamming the door close. But as she turned around in the hall, she saw the man standing behind her.

"Forgive me for the intrusion, Mrs. Dursley, but I have come to you with an important matter to discuss, one that could effect not only you, but a great part of Britain. I must know, where is Harry Potter?" The man spoke, doing his best to reassure the woman.

Petunia let out a shrill cry in response, backing against the wall in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here? That freak of yours isn't here!"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the language she used. He had always known that Petunia was rather envious of Lily's gifts, but he had never expected such irrational hatred.

"Ma'am, I am only here to check on a son of my friend's, and after that I shall be on my way. Now please, tell me, where is Harry Potter?" The Headmaster tried to assuage the tense woman, but she only seemed to get more infuriated.

"That freak disappeared, and good riddance too! Now leave my house, or my husband will kill you when he gets home!" The woman shrieked at the man, grabbing an umbrella and pulling in front of herself like a weapon.

The wizard grew even more distressed by these words. He knew he wouldn't be able to get any more information from the woman. Or at least not vocally.

He stared at her eyes, before using basic Legilimency to look into her mind. He wandered through her completely unprotected thoughts, before he arrived at a rather dark part of her mindscape, where he saw she had shelved memories of Harry. The memories were like small globes, clustered in a pile. He picked up the shiniest one, which was the most recent memory, before looking into it.

It showed a memory from Petunia's view. The woman was looking into the hall that Dumbledore had just been standing in from another room, the door opened just a crack. She watched as a tremendously large man threw around a small child, who was bleeding profusely. The wizard didn't need to be a genius to know that the child was the young Harry, and he could feel a great sense of rage building within him. This was not supposed to happen. The child was to be raised in a loving childhood, where he could cherish the blissful ignorance he had before he had to turn into the hardened warrior who would end Voldemort. The boy was not supposed to suffer.

But Dumbledore kept his eyes upon the scene in front of him, as he saw Vernon strangle the child while pushing him against the wall. What he saw next was amazing, as Harry simply vanished from his uncle's grasp. The man was dumbfounded, as he knew that Harry had not Apparated, which left him to wonder how the boy disappeared.

As the old wizard exited the memory, he stared right at Petunia Dursley with hatred that he had not felt in decades. He didn't even feel this emotion for Tom. No, for Tom, he only ever felt pity. But for the woman in front of him, he felt pure, unadulterated rage. He glared daggers at her, as she dropped her umbrella and whimpered in the corner, cowed by the ferocity of his anger.

"You, you and your husband have delivered upon an innocent child treatment that which I would not deliver upon my greatest enemy. For all your disgust at us and our kind, it turns out that you yourself are the true monsters. You used your hatred to justify such behaviour. It is truly a wonder how you can live with yourself." Although the wizard spoke in a steady voice, the woman could never miss the undercurrent of great outrage.

The man awaited no reply, and simply walked to the door, which was flung open with a small motion of his hand. Before he was off the driveway, he Apparated once more, at that point not caring if he was seen.

* * *

When Harry opened his eyes, he was once again in Hermione's room, the book clutched within his grip. This time though, the girl wasn't inside. Harry took the moment to take a better look around in the sunlight of day.

He had learned over the past week of Hermione's passionate love for books, and more so for knowledge. Therefore he wasn't too surprised to see an enormous bookcase that completely covered one wall, and seemed to be filled to the brim with books, ranging from great works of literature to books upon science and even philosophy.

Harry was also enthralled by the painting on the opposite side of the room, next to the door, as it showed horses running across a landscape with a towering castle in the distance.

He heard voices from below, and stepped out from the room into the small corridor. The floor was also carpeted, and he saw a landing down to the right. On the other side were two more rooms, each of which had doors just like the one to Hermione's. He quietly made his way downstairs to find that Hermione was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some television. The couch was placed in a way that he was directly behind her, therefore she didn't notice him until he stepped around the sofa.

The bushy haired girl nearly shrieked, jumping into the air, but before she could she recognised the face in front of her. In turn she leaped at him, squeezing him in a tight hug. "Harry! It's so good to see you."

The boy in question however was finding it difficult to even draw a breath. "Too. Tight. Hermione!" He managed to wheeze out. The girl quickly released him, blushing sheepishly while spouting out an array of apologies.

"It's fine, I'm just not too used to hugs like that." Harry said, trying to reassure his friend. It was strange for him as well. Usually, he hated having to come close to other people, but he had felt happy hugging Hermione. He subconsciously thought that it might be because of something related to the crystal necklaces that hung around both of their necks, before pushing the thought out of his mind.

"So, where are your parents?" The boy questioned. He had liked the two older Grangers when they 'met', despite the fact that Hermione's father had been more than a little tough on him. He understood that the man had just been worried for his daughter. And to be honest, it wasn't as bad as what Harry was used to courtesy of the Dursleys.

"Both of them are at the clinic right now. They're dentists, so they're usually busy on weekdays. They used to get me a babysitter, but since I've turned nine, they think I can handle being without one." Hermione replied, before her attention turned to the book that the wizard held in his hands. "What is that?"

Harry suddenly remembered that he still held the book he had brought for her, and quickly pushed it in front of himself, presenting it to her. "I just thought you might like this book. It's kind of an introduction to the basics of the magical world."

Hermione graciously accepted the gift, looking it over with eyes of adoration, grinning madly. Harry smiled to himself slightly as well, happy that she was pleased. But before he could say anything, he was once again tackled by the girl who was more than a few inches taller than him, and found it difficult to stay on his feet. Luckily for him, the witch showed more restraint this time, and didn't hug him nearly as tightly. Harry slowly returned the hug himself, feeling rather pleased with himself.

After nearly an entire minute, Hermione drew back, holding the book firmly. "How about we go upstairs and read some of this together?" She offered, to which Harry nodded with agreement, before they both rushed upstairs to Hermione's room.

* * *

Dumbledore had never been as unsure of himself as he was at that moment, sitting in his office, still thinking of what to do regarding the disappearance of Harry Potter.

The first matter his mind was focusing on was the treatment of the boy at the hands of his so-called relatives. And no matter how he looked at it, he was at least partially responsible. Minerva had warned him that they weren't the best people, but he had ignored that in favour of the safety that the wards placed there would offer. That was his greatest mistake, for he had never even anticipated that very safety being compromised from within the wards themselves.

And even then, he should have ensured the boy was safe. He hadn't, in fear that young Harry would not yet be ready to learn of his abilities as a wizard.

But now he had even more pressing matters to face. The boy was missing! The entire magical community had entrusted him with Harry, and he had lost him. Now he couldn't even turn to anyone for help. He had to find the boy, who could be anywhere in Britain, or maybe even the world, singlehandedly.

He cradled a small bottle of Fire Whiskey in his hand, pouring himself yet another glass, before proceeding to down most of it in one gulp. It had been quite some time since he had been as inebriated as he was right now, but at the moment he required it. He held the empty glass up, peering over its edge to see his familiar staring at him.

"Ah, Fawkes. It must be wonderful to be a phoenix. No worries of how your actions may affect others. No fear of death." He bemoaned, before placing down the glass in a deft motion. "I must confess Fawkes, I was wrong. And now, I must make amends, or the world will pay for my mistakes." Dumbledore sighed, before standing up from his chair, and once again straightening his robes out with his hands to the best of his abilities.

"Well, there is no time like the present. If I shall work on making things right, I have no time to waste." He spoke with grave determination, before glancing towards his familiar.

The phoenix flew from his perch, before diving toward the old man. Just as Fawkes flew over him, Dumbledore raised his arms and touched the bird, before they both burst into a large inferno.

Moments later the fire died to reveal that no sign of either was left, other than a few cinders and a small pile of ash.

* * *

Harry and Hermione were snacking on some sandwiches that he had managed to make. Hermione had been shocked that Harry actually knew how to work around in a kitchen. The two had spent almost two hours just talking about the book as they read it, before they had decided to take a break.

"So, what's it like, living in the magical world?" Hermione asked, as she finished her sandwich.

"It's actually really fun. I haven't really talked to many people, but I can read as much as I want, so that's good."

Harry saw Hermione give him a slightly envious look at the prospect of being able to read as much as you want, which caused him to chuckle. "Don't worry, Hermione, I'll keep bringing you books that l know you'll love. Plus, maybe you can also visit Diagon Alley with your parents sometime, and then you can even find those books for yourself."

The promise served to satisfy the girl for now. After having gotten to know the Muggleborn over the last week, Harry had grown more used to her love for books. Admittedly, he also liked to read, especially when it was about something that caught his interest or might be useful to him, but Hermione could read and absorb just about anything.

Once Harry had finished his sandwich and cleaned the plates he'd used, he once again found himself whisked away by Hermione back to their discussion of 'The Magical And You'. And if he was completely honest, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

It was a rather upsetting goodbye, but Hermione knew that Harry had to go back to Diagon Alley. She had more fun with him than she ever did playing with others in the park. She was glad she finally had a friend, and to add to that the fact that her new friend was a magical just like her was icing on the cake. So, after making Harry promise that he would continue to tell her about everything he read and saw, she allowed him to teleport away.

* * *

Harry marched down the stairs of the Leaky Cauldron, and headed straight to Tom, who was stationed behind the bar. "Tom, I know my stay expires in a few days, but I would like to extend my stay by another month."

Tom smiled at the boy, who had been a perfect guest at his inn. "Well, no trouble whatsoever, Harry, we would be happy to have you. The rates are the same, so it'll be four galleons for the stay, and four galleons for food and housekeeping." The boy withdrew the amount from his pouch, and handed them over to the man. He then thanked the innkeeper, before rushing back to his room. He'd come downstairs in a few hours for dinner, but until then, he had something he wanted to do.

Harry's month at the Leaky Cauldron had proven to be both informative and amusing. He had finished reading 'The Magical And You', and had also read a similar book he got from Flourish and Blotts, titled 'Hogwarts: A History'. He had been amazed by how impactful Hogwarts was to magical Britain.

But what was probably most important was the fact that he had started reading his mother's diary. The leather bound book he had found in Vault 687 was indeed written by his mother after her graduation from Hogwarts. It had a lot of work on potions and charms, though it was far beyond his scope of understanding. What was more important to him were the parts where Lily wrote about her life outside of Hogwarts, and about the life she was living with his dad. He felt as if this allowed him to get to know his parents much better than he could ever have imagined.

He had learnt that his mother had been something of a genius when it came to Potions and Charms classes at Hogwarts, and his father had been a Transfiguration prodigy. He had promised himself that he would do his parents proud by proving that he was just as good in at least those subjects. It was with that desire that he dressed up, prepared to go out into Diagon Alley. Reading about his parents and their endeavours had inspired him to immediately get some of the things he would need to learn more about magic and its practical uses.

He had begun reading through 'The Art Of Wandless Sorcery', and was shocked to discover that wandless magic was not as common as he had thought. Most people were completely unable to perform any wandless magic, and those who could use it were only able to perform basic charms or spells. Only a handful of extremely powerful wizards could actually use wandless magic with some mastery, including Albus Dumbledore, and - before his demise - He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The way he understood it, wandless magic was just considered too difficult to execute by the vast majority. Most people just stuck with their use of wands, not bothering to learn wandless magic. The book was not very helpful for practical purposes, but rather it offered a theoretical explanation for wandless sorcery. It all boiled down to how well the witch or wizard could manipulate their own magic using their will and imagination. But other than that, the book did not give any information on how to improve one's own wandless magic, or how to practice it.

Having taken a quick shower, Harry donned his cloak, allowed Bastille to slither up his sleeve, and moving out of the room, made his way to Diagon Alley. He wanted to get any equipment he would need on Potions, Charms and Transfiguration as soon as possible, so that he could start working on them. It would give him something to do, and help him form some sort of connection with his parents.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This is still me just trying to bring all my fanwork together. But I have already gotten to work on multiple chapters of multiple fanfics, which I will begin to post soon.**

**So until then, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I will see you later with more. Feel free to PM or review with any questions, and favourite and follow.**

Peace Out

Kofukuna Shi No Kami


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

After nearly a month of eating properly and not being burdened by sharing a house with the Dursleys, Harry had grown quite a bit. His height had increased by a solid two inches, which was just tall enough that most of the other customers at Flourish and Blotts wouldn't be staring at him. Usually, they would even pass him off as a younger sibling to a Hogwarts student, who had tagged along for the shopping of school supplies. Harry couldn't be happier, as it drew the attention away from him, and let him look around the store much more freely.

As he browsed through the different sections of the massive bookstore, he finally found the section that interested him the most. The Hogwarts school books. It had not taken him long to decide that if he were to start learning about magic anywhere, the best option would definitely be the books used by the best wizarding school of Britain. At the very least they would provide him with some base of knowledge to better understand his mother's journal. He was able to pick out two copies of each of the relevant books for Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. He knew that Hermione wouldn't spare him if he didn't do so.

* * *

An hour later, he lay sprawled across his bed in the Leaky Cauldron as he opened the book on Charms. It seemed like a suitable place to start. He read over its introduction with great attention, but by the time he turned over to the first chapter, one problem was very clear. He wouldn't be getting anywhere without a wand. He had expected that there would be some limit to how much he would be able to practice magic, but he thought there would be at least some theory he could study. Unfortunately, the very first lesson began with the use of a wand. It did make sense though. Using wands just made the whole process a bunch easier.

He ignored his lack of a wand, and continued to read through the first chapter of the textbook. The boy was glad that it had the incantation and wand movements required to perform the first spell listed.

"The Levitation Spell can be used to lift any inanimate object into the air. The weight of the object, and the height by which it will be raised depends upon the magic used by the spellcaster." The boy's interest grew with each word. This was the first time he was encountering magic as something a little more understandable and practical. It seemed...easy, for lack of a better word. A few motions of his hands and a simple incantation, and the magic would be done. All he needed was a wand.

However, the problem remained that he wouldn't be able to procure a wand until he was eleven, or at least looked the age; the rule had been listed in _Hogwarts: A History_. So, he'd have to make do with just reading.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry said, for the fifth unsuccessful attempt. He had honestly tried to just read through the book, but his mind was unable to remain upon anything other than the spell. After he reread one page three times over, he decided that he might as well see what he could do about the spell. It was already keeping him from focusing on the book, after all.

He was trying to remember all that he had read about in the book on wandless magic while trying to cast the spell, but he was still not having any luck. His target was one of the Transfiguration books he had recently purchased. He had decided to start with something on the smaller side of things, but he still hadn't achieved more than a fluttering page.

With a sigh of exasperation, he held his arm in front of himself once again, aiming his fist at the book. He thrust his hand toward the book, and spoke in a strong voice, "Wingardium Leviosa!" This time, the book seemed to rise by a few centimetres, before dropping back onto the bed pathetically. But to the young wizard it was amazing. He was finally beginning to see some progress. 'Now, what did I do different?' He wanted to think over why his last try had yielded better results, but failed to chalk it up to anything other than practice.

He took aim once more, and cast the now fluent spell. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Again, the book hovered up, and retained its spot in the air for a significant moment before falling. The boy smiled, almost shocked by what he had just done. He was about to repeat the process once more, but halted as he heard a soft knock on the door. Harry turned away from the bed, quickly turned to the door and pulled it open.

Tom grinned at him from outside of the room. "Well Harry, it seems you have a visitor. I've brought him up here, and he's quite adamant to meet you, young man." Tom seemed slightly flustered as he spoke. Harry was a little surprised by how frantic he seemed, but before he could ask about it, another man walked into his view. This man grabbed his attention immediately, for not only was he in a rather shabby condition, but he was also dressed in a very peculiar way. His head was covered by a wizard's hat, but his silver beard ran down to his waist. Harry might have been mistaken, but he was almost sure the man's beard was covered with spots of ash. He wore a purple robe, which was also covered with the grey dust and tied up with a brown belt. His eyes shone through his half-moon glasses as he looked at the boy with a soft smile. "I am sure that Harry and I can manage from here, Tom. Thank you for your assistance."

The old man gave the innkeeper a sharp nod. Tom hobbled away after he was dismissed, and left Harry and the man to stare at each other.

"Well, Harry, it is truly a pleasure to meet you," The man began, as he started to walk into the room. "I was a good friend of your parents, and I am here to help you." The wizened wizard explained.

Harry stared at the man silently for a moment, almost as if he was contemplating what to say. "I know who you are. You are Albus Dumbledore, the man who put me into the house of the Dursleys. You are also my magical guardian." Dumbledore's eyes widened. He didn't expect Harry to know who he was, much less believe that he was responsible for Harry's tragic childhood. Dumbledore considered his response, and the thought of lying did briefly occur to him, but he shot it down immediately. The boy deserved the truth.

"I, I am very sorry for what you had to go through, my boy. When I left you with your aunt and uncle, I hoped that they might let go of their irrational fears for the sake of a child, a child who had done neither of them any harm. Unfortunately, I was mistaken, and you had to pay the price for that. For that, I can only promise you that you shall never have to see the Dursleys again, and that I hope you can forgive me for my mistake."

Harry felt a swell of anger at the mention of the Dursleys, but he also saw that Dumbledore felt genuine regret for what he had done. He hadn't expected an apology. He didn't think he would be able to forgive Dumbledore for what had already happened, but he could allow the man the benefit of the doubt. At least Dumbledore acknowledged that he'd been wrong in trusting the Dursleys.

"I can understand the reason for that, Mr. Dumbledore, even if I don't think it was right. But why are you here? In fact, how did you even know that I was here in the first place?" The boy asked.

Dumbledore realised that he might have to remain here for some time, so with a wave of his hand, he conjured a comfortable armchair for himself, and settled down. He smiled as he recognised a spark of wonder and amazement in the boy's green eyes. _'Perhaps there is still a child somewhere deep beneath his terrible suffering.'_ Once again, he found himself cursing the Dursleys.

"My primary reason for wanting to see you was to ascertain that you are still alive and safe. I had recently learnt that you had left Privet Drive, and when I went to your aunt's home to investigate, I learnt of your treatment at the hands of the Dursleys." He said the word 'treatment' as if it was a venom meant to be spat out. "I grew worried, and immediately set out to find you."

"And what will you do now?" The boy asked. He was curious regarding how Albus found him, though he was sure it had something to do with magic, so he tucked that question away.

All of a sudden, Dumbledore seemed to age considerably, as his shoulders sunk into the chair. "I must admit I am at quite a crossroads regarding that. Obviously, the Dursleys' home is not an option, but at the same time I cannot ask just anyone to take you in, even if most would be happy to do so." As he noticed that the boy had grown silent, he stopped. "Again, I apologize dearly for the Dursleys. If there is something that I can offer to at least begin to rebuild some trust within you, please do tell me."

Harry remained quiet for a moment, before responding in a slow voice. "I want to learn how to use wandless magic."

Dumbledore blinked with surprise. Wandless magic was not something to be taken lightly. It was the highest form of magic, and indicated an affinity for magic so powerful that the stuff basically oozed out of the caster's body. "Harry my boy, I fear that I cannot promise you that you will be able to perform wandless magic. It is complex and powerful, and many are unable to ever fully comprehend it."

Harry did not stray from his course. "Well, I know that I will be able to learn it. I'm already practicing. But what I also need is a good teacher, and you seem more than capable. But those are my terms to ever trusting you. I want to grow stronger with magic. I want to learn how to perform magic properly."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "How exactly do you mean that you have been practising, my boy?"

Instead of answering, Harry stood up and moved a few feet away from his bed, before turning his hand to point at the book still lying on the bed. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The book rose slowly. One inch. Two inches. Three inches. Five inches. Ten inches. It only stopped when it was a good two feet above the bed. Dumbledore failed to conceal his surprise now. He was gawking at the boy, who he had clearly underestimated. It may not seem like more than a simple Levitation charm, but to perform it wandlessly was a great feat for just about anyone, let alone a nine-year-old boy.

"That, that's amazing my boy. Truly wonderful." The Headmaster exclaimed. "Perhaps I stand corrected. You may be a student capable for wandless magic."

Harry seemed elated. "So, will you be teaching me?"

Dumbledore thought over it for a moment, though he had already made his decision. "It would be a great injustice to allow such talent to go wasted. I agree to teach you, Harry. And I believe that also solves another dilemma of ours regarding your new residence." He said, as he stood up. Harry was a little less surprised to see the armchair vanish from beneath him. "Of course, I mean no offence to Tom, but this inn isn't a suitable place for a child to live in on a permanent basis." With that, he held out his right arm for the boy to hold. "Please hold on, Harry."

Harry hesitated. "Harry, I know I have wronged you, but I am trying my best to make amends. That is possible only if you reciprocate my trust." Dumbledore said.

It took a moment, but Harry finally placed his left arm over the Headmaster's right one. "Off we go then, Harry." Harry heard Dumbledore say it, but the last words seemed to waver and stretch out. An instant later a similar feeling spread through him, starting at his stomach. He felt a painful tightness surround him, as he spun through thin air. For a second, he felt as if he were moving through a thin tube, before all of the strange sensations came to a rest. He opened his eyes, which he never remembered closing, to see that he was standing on a platform in a train station. And an empty station at that.

* * *

"Welcome to Hogsmeade Station, Harry. The castle is just a short walk from here, and I think we can enjoy some beauty while we walk." The man then began down a winding path, with Harry quickly matching his gait.

"Hogsmeade...this is that village that's close to Hogwarts, isn't it? What are we doing here?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, you desire to learn, and that is the primary requirement for being a student. And as your future teacher, I think it would be much easier to teach you if you were at Hogwarts, where I also reside."

Harry felt his jaw drop. He was going to see Hogwarts. The very Hogwarts that had produced great wizards such as Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald and Voldemort. The very Hogwarts where his own parents had studied. It felt surreal, as the duo continued their trek up the path.

"And do not worry, I shall see to it that all of your belongings are moved to a dormitory suitable for you." That was the last thing that was said between the two, until the majestic castle was finally visible to the boy.

"Wow..." The quiet whisper of exclamation slipped out before he could even think over it, as he saw the immense, welcoming castle sit near the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest. Its towers were so high he was sure he could see across the entire forest from the top. And its massive doors were surprisingly less foreboding than one might expect. The doors swung open with a groan as the two approached, and Harry looked back to see them closing once again behind them. The first interior he saw was the entrance hall, which greatly resembled the images he had seen in books. Another closed set of doors led to what had to be the Great Hall, and Harry could see a flight of stairs at the end of the entrance hall which led up.

"It seems that despite its age, Hogwarts had maintained its special ability to leave any newcomer speechless. In fact, I was left so dazzled by my first sight of it I almost toppled over the side of my boat." Dumbledore chuckled, as he began to walk toward the stairwell. "I think I should first show you to your room. It would allow you to settle in."

Harry nodded, as the prospect of having a safe home as magical I as this was very appealing to him. He almost didn't believe it. "So, does this make me an official student at Hogwarts now?"

Dumbledore paused to allow a _moving_ staircase to stop, before he stepped onto it and began to climb. "Unfortunately, you are not a student, and you cannot be one until you are eleven years of age. As such, you cannot attend any official classes. However, you will have full access to the vast Hogwarts library, along with having the option to use the extra classrooms as you wish. Of course, we shall also be having our own classes on wandless spellcasting." Harry could not keep the wide grin from appearing across his face. Finally, things were going his way.

The two stepped onto the fourth floor, and Harry followed Dumbledore as he approached a tapestry hung on the wall. Harry was slightly confused, until Dumbledore pulled aside the tapestry to reveal a narrow passageway, lit by small flames that floated above their heads. As the two walked down the passage, they arrived to a door. "Although it has remained unknown to most students and many teachers here at Hogwarts, the building has many secret passageways and rooms. As they are unoccupied, I am sure that no one would mind you taking up residence here. Now, let's enter."

Albus pushed the door open to reveal a larger room than Harry had expected. It contained a queen bed against the opposite wall, with a large area of free space in the middle. There was a small wardrobe, next to which sat a table. A clock hung over the table. The room was lit by multiple chandeliers floating near the ceiling, and Harry saw another door which led further from the room. Probably a bathroom, he guessed.

"This is, pretty good." Harry whispered, honestly amazed by the gravity of what had occurred over the last hour or so. "But what do I do for now?"

Dumbledore smiled once more, before calling out, "Dimpy." Within a moment Harry heard a sharp crack, as a strange creature appeared into existence before his very two eyes. The creature slightly resembled the goblins he had seen at Gringotts, though it was considerably frailer and looked less vicious. It wore a grimy pillowcase, which seemed to be held together by multiple stitches and patches. But most obvious were its large, bat like ears, and its huge bulging blue eyes. "Yes, Master Dumbleedoor?" The creature's was completely different from the Goblins'. They always sounded aggressive and proud. This one sounded anxious and nervous.

"Dimpy, this is Harry Potter. He shall be staying with us at Hogwarts for quite some time, starting today, but he shall not be enrolled for at least two more years. As such, his meals, clothes and all such will be kept separate from the other students. You shall be in charge of this. At the timings of the regular meals, please serve him his food here as well."

Dimpy seemed awed by the mere mention of Harry's name, and immediately straightened his shaggy pillowcase in an attempt to make himself more presentable. "Dimpy shall be most honoured to serve the Gracious Master Harry Potter sir. Thank you, Master Dumbleedoor sir."

Harry tried to protest at the long-winded name he had been assigned, but his pleading fell on deaf ears, as Dimpy then vanished away with another crack.

"Who was that, Headmaster?" Harry asked as the creature vanished.

"That, my boy, was a house-elf. Hundreds of them are present at Hogwarts, and are responsible for the castle's upkeep and for tending to the students' needs. I do believe Dimpy has gone to prepare a spot of lunch for you, as it is just about the time for it. Please do ask Dimpy for any help that you may need."

"So, when do we begin our classes?" Harry asked carefully, as he didn't want to seem impatient, but the thought of magic classes was still taking up most of his attention.

"I think it would be best if we discuss that tomorrow with fresh minds after a night's sleep. For today, allow yourself to adjust to your new home. You have permission to explore, and should you get lost, just call for Dimpy. The castle is empty most summers, and other than the caretaker, the groundskeeper and I, there isn't anyone else here." The idea of exploration did slightly excite Harry, especially after Dumbledore had mentioned a library. However, his wonderings were paused by a resounding crack, followed by a delicious aroma. He turned around to see the table covered with food, ranging from pot roast, to soups, to cakes, shepherd pie and even treacle tarts. Dimpy finally appeared with a jug of orange juice in hand, which he placed upon the table. "Your lunch, Magnificent Master Harry Potter sir."

"You really should call me just Harry, Dimpy."

Dumbledore chuckled again. "Dimpy, I think it would also be necessary to bring Harry his belongings from room 8 of the Leaky Cauldron. Allow me my leave now, Harry. And welcome to Hogwarts."

* * *

It was almost six hours later that Albus returned to the boy's chamber, and found him completing his dinner. "I hope you have grown accustomed to the castle, Harry."

Harry smiled. He had been able to continue reading his Charms textbook and practising the Levitation charm. He had considered exploring the castle, but ultimately decided against doing it this soon. He had, however, heard quite a bit about the library from Dimpy. It housed upwards of a hundred thousand books. Dimpy had also given him a few more details, such as how the Black Lake was the home of the notorious Giant Squid (Harry was in no hurry to confirm this claim), and how a great deal of different species lived in the Forbidden Forest.

"I actually haven't had much of a chance to explore just yet, but I have been practicing more wandless magic. I think I've got the Levitation Charm down, and I've started practicing Alohomora on the door now. I think it is coming along well."

Albus allowed a proud smile to grace his features. "Well done, my boy. I believe I can now help you move forward with some spells, as I had promised." Despite his calm exterior, the headmaster was amazed by the boy's progress. He seemed to be rushing through spells at an unprecedented rate, especially for someone performing wandless magic.

Harry grew more excited. "What will our lessons be starting with?" He wanted a chance to go over the spell beforehand, or at least the theory parts of it.

Albus chortled. "It may be hard to imagine, but I was also once a child just as impulsive as you, Harry. Your lessons will, remain secret for just a while longer. In fact, I have come to escort you to the medical wing. After your past, I understand that I must put more effort into your safety, and your physical health is a large part of that. As such, I had a trusted and skilled friend of mine come here to help you with that. She has prepared a cot for you in the medical wing, and I think it would serve both of us well if we didn't keep her waiting."

For a moment Harry was unsure of what to do. But he decided he would trust Dumbledore, and his judgement. He got up, and tightened his cloak around his shoulders. "Alright, professor. Let's go to the medical wing."

The two exited from behind the tapestry that hid the dorm, and Harry begun to follow Albus. As they walked, he dimly noted that the castle seemed very different at night. It had gained a somewhat eerie quality. He was still surprised by how well-lit the castle remained.

Arriving at the medical wing, Harry saw a woman who was in her late fifties, judging by her greying hair. She wore a red and white set of robes, and as soon as she registered their entrance, she moved towards them. "Come along, Mr. Potter. The Headmaster has told me that you have been through quite a lot, so I think we should begin right now."

She led Harry to the nearest bed, and helped him on to it. Dumbledore and Harry watched as she waved her wand over his body, with a faint blue light emitting from its tip. She moved it all across him, from head to toe, before waving the wand to the other side of the room. This caused a small vial to fly to her hand.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked, but was cut off by the matron shushing him. "Madam Pomfrey often doesn't speak when she is working. But remain at ease, she is doing her best at the moment," placated Dumbledore.

She opened the vial, and used a dripper to drop a few millimetres into Harry's mouth. "Potion of Increm, it helps the protein synthesis to help with growth. The very first problem would be your obvious malnutrition. The potion isn't an instant fix by any means. But it will help your own body overcome the lack of growth with time. Other than that, you don't have any serious physical injuries. But on the magical side of things, you will have to take a second medication for magical exhaustion. It seems your magic has drained itself almost completely, in preventing your malnutrition from worsening over the years." With another wave of her wand, she summoned a much larger flask, which zoomed across the room and into her hand. 'I have to ask Dumbledore about that spell.'

"Usually, magical exhaustion would leave you feeling weak and sluggish for a few hours. Not too serious. But you have been like that for god knows how long. I can only estimate, but it must have been at least eighteen months. Eighteen months of magical exhaustion is not good." Harry grew nervous at the matron's tone. He noticed that Dumbledore's face had grown dark as well.

"Now, your magic has slowly started replenishing, but after so long, it has grown to being in very small quantities. We will have to flood your body with Invigoration Draught, because otherwise you may suffer more permanent damage from this magical exhaustion. The Draught will cause you to produce more magic, which will begin to store up within you to deal with the exhaustion." Pomfrey instructed, before pouring him a small cup of liquid from the flask. She offered him the cup, which he downed reluctantly. "Excellent. You will have to come to me once every day for the next week to take these potions. Healing long term problems is a little more time-consuming than simpler issues. Now, I expect that there will be a few side effects of taking the two potions, but they shouldn't interfere with most of your life, Mr. Potter. You may feel bouts of energy, a slight fever at times, and muscle soreness. That only means that the potions are doing their jobs, but if it grows to be too much, I recommend that you come to me immediately." Harry somehow managed to keep up with her entire explanation, and nodded when she stopped. "I will make sure to take the potions. And thank you for your help, Madam Pomfrey." The woman smiled softly. "No worries, Mr. Potter. I may have been called on a bit of a short notice, but I would do anything to ensure someone's healthy."

Harry smiled with gratitude, before he felt a warmth spreading through his throat, permeating through him. The matron noticed his face flush slightly "That must be the potions taking effect. You should be good to go, for now, Mr. Potter. And there is no need to worry. We've been able to prevent any permanent damage."

Harry was still slightly out of it after the witch's explanation. "So, will I be okay?" The witch nodded. "You should be fine within a few months, after you have taken the medication, of course." After that, Pomfrey turned to the headmaster. "Now, I think I have something to discuss with you, Albus, and I think it would be prudent for Mr. Potter to return to his dormitory to rest."

Albus's expression grew grim, but he agreed nonetheless. He called Dimpy, and instructed him to guide Harry back to his room.

* * *

Hermione lay on her bed, rereading through Hogwarts: A History. She had already read the book, of course, but she still had trouble believing some of the things cited in it. 'Flying broomsticks, ghosts, goblins, house-elves, this is crazy.' Just as she flipped over to the next chapter – A Concise History of the Headmasters of Hogwarts – she began to hear a familiar voice echoing in her head. She looked down to her crystal, and just as she had expected, it was glowing faintly. It did whenever Harry was trying to use it to communicate. She grasped it in her hand, and thought of responding to Harry. _'Harry, I can hear you. What's going on?'_

_'There's something important I have to tell you, Hermione?'_ Her friend's voice grew more focused, and the crystal grew a bit brighter. _'I am at Hogwarts right now, with Albus Dumbledore.'_

Hermione gasped. _'Harry, that, that's amazing. I read that Professor Dumbledore's the strongest wizard alive. He has so many achievements that he has a separate chapter for himself in _Hogwarts: A History_. But why are you with him?'_ A sickly feeling formed in her gut. _'You aren't in any trouble, are you Harry?'_

Harry shook his head vigorously, before realizing the futility of that. _'No, I'm not in trouble. I am actually living at Hogwarts now. Headmaster Dumbledore was a friend of my parents, and he's my magical guardian. He's the one who brought me here.'_

Harry heard a sharp squeal. _'Harry! Professor Dumbledore is the single most influential person in the entire magical world. I imagine it must be extraordinary to be staying with him in Hogwarts.'_ Hermione felt happy for her friend, she honestly did. But the slight envy in her tone wasn't missed by the boy.

_'Well, the castle is impressive, but I haven't actually had a chance to do much exploring yet. I only arrived today. But I plan on looking into the Hogwarts library tomorrow, '_ Another squeal. _'And I promise, I will tell you all about anything that catches my eye.'_

_'I expect you to do that, Harry. I've already read through the introductory books you got me, and I can only reread a book so many times.'_

Harry remained silent for a moment._ 'I'll have to ask Dumbledore about it, but I think I can get permission to send you some books from the Hogwarts library.'_

Hermione smiled. _'That would be incredible Harry, but I don't want you to do anything that might jeopardize your relationship with Professor Dumbledore.'_

Harry wasn't too worried in that regard. _'Don't worry Hermione. I have reason to believe that Dumbledore will be, cooperative.'_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Hi guys and gals!**

**The writer's block with this chapter was unbearable. I had to take a bit of a break to read some other fics as well, to gain a bit of inspiration as well as improve my writing. I hope this chapter is a testament to the time taken to write it, and that you readers enjoy it. I messed around with it a lot before deciding on what I wanted for it. I just pray to The Log and the muse gods nothing similar strikes again.**

**Finally, I was able to complete this. Many other chapters for my other stories are also very close to completion, so I hope to bring updates soon.**

**Feel free to PM or review with any queries you may have regarding the story. Tell me about what you liked and what you didn't like. And if you liked the chapter, please favourite and follow.**

**Well, I hope you are all staying safe. I believe that's a wrap.**

Peace Out

Kofukuna Shi No Kami


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